


Excursion d'une Journée

by Smidge



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smidge/pseuds/Smidge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt and Alex go on a day trip to France.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Excursion d'une Journée

**Author's Note:**

> I went on a day trip to France yesterday and thought it could be romantic - obviously not for me as I went with my mum, but hey! 
> 
> Here, Matt takes Alex to France as a friend and they come back as something else ;)
> 
> I apologise now for the sweet and fluffy-ness.
> 
> Enjoy x

 “Okay, mate,” Arthur sighs as Karen crosses her arms expectantly, “tell us what this is all about.”

“I’ve won a day-trip to France,” Matt enthuses excitedly and the friends chuckle in delight.

“Awesome,” Karen beams, “So, when do we go?”

“Next weekend,” Matt states, before frowning. “There’s only one problem...”

“What?”

“It’s only a ticket for two...”

The friends fall silent as they contemplate what this means. Obviously Matt will take one of the tickets as he won the trip in the first place. But that then means, only _one_ of them can go with him.

“I think I should go with you,” Karen is obviously the first to fight for her cause, “Coz I never get to go anywhere with anyone ever.”

Arthur laughs, “Yes you _do_ , Kaz, you’re always tagging along with me or with Matt or even both of us. You get to go _everywhere._ ”

“Not been to France though,” she grumps.

“Neither have I,” Arthur complains in protest. “I think _I_ should go with you, mate,” he turns back to Matt, “We’ve known each other the longest.”

“That we have,” Matt agrees.

“But I like _wine_ ,” Karen adds, as if this would help her win.

“Well, _I_ like _cheese_ ,” Arthur returns, and Matt sighs, shaking his head; he’s obviously not going to get anywhere; they’ll have to do ‘eeney-meeney-miney-mo’.

“I like wine _and_ cheese,” Alex joins in out of nowhere.

“Alex?” Karen and Arthur stop their squabbling as they contemplate Matt’s reaction. Their shoulders slump in defeat when his face obviously informs them of a new contender.

“What are we naming my favourite French foods for?” she eyes them speculatively.

“Matt’s won a trip to France and we’re calmly discussing who should go with him,” Karen states proudly.

“ _Calmly_ ,” Arthur squeaks, “That wasn’t calm.”

“I think I have chosen the winner,” Matt interrupts them.

“You _have_?”

“Yes,” he turns to Alex, “Kingston. How would you like to come with me to France for the day on Saturday?”

Karen and Arthur’s jaws drop open in disbelief.  Alex seems unsure of how to answer, but their reactions spur her on.

“Yes, alright darling; that sounds like fun.”

“That’s not fair,” Karen huffs and stalks off with Arthur in tow, grumbling under her breath.

“Um, should I have let one of them go with you?” Alex asks hesitantly, watching Matt’s despondent friends trudge back to set.

“No, of course not,” he swings her attention back to him, “they’ll get over it. Besides, you’ll be much more fun.”

She chuckles. “I highly doubt that, darling,” dropping her eyes to the floor nervously, “but, if you’re sure?”

“Definitely,” he beams and she finds she is unable to back out now even if she wanted to.

-

Saturday morning comes quickly and Alex is up, packed and ready to go by eight-thirty when Matt picks her up.

“Morning,” he beams as he opens the passenger side door to her.

“Good morning, darling,” she smiles as she settles into the seat and Matt pulls away and heads off to Dover.

“We have to be there by ten-thirty,” he explains, “should take just under two hours for us to get there, so timing is perfect; then the ferry leaves just after eleven.”

“Wonderful,” she replies, then suddenly feels awkward when neither of them can seem to find anything to say.

Matt turns the radio on and fiddles with it until he comes across an old eighties rock type station.

“This alright,” he gestures to the music.

“Mmmhmm,” she nods her head and smiles.

They follow the motorway for miles.

“I think I have everything we need,” he breaks the silence about half an hour later.

She looks at him quizzically.

“You know, like, for all the laws with driving and stuff,” he elaborates.

“Ah, yes...” she nods, “Good.”

The music plays quietly in the background, Alex stares out the window and Matt just drives; hands firmly on the steering wheel.

“Alex,” he sighs, an hour into the journey, “This is really awkward.”

She glances at him in alarm, “what is?”

“ _This_ ,” he waves his hand between them. “What’s _wrong_ with us?”

“I don’t know, darling,” she shakes her head, looking into her lap; “I guess I’m just not sure you really want me here.”

“What?” He turns to her, outraged.

“You should have brought Karen or Arthur with you instead; you’re much better friends than we are.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his hands come off the steering wheel as he gestures and she makes a grab for it as he replaces them. “You are just as much a friend of mine as they are.” _Or even more so_ , he thinks.

“But – “

“Alex,” he stops her, “I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me if I didn’t want you here.”

She looks back in her lap, feeling utterly chastised and silly and even more like she shouldn’t be there.

“Hey,” he softens his voice, “I’m sorry Alex, I just... we _are_ friends and I wish we could just both _see_ that.”

She nods and stares out her window.

Matt sighs and says nothing more. And another half hour passes.

A few songs appear on the radio that she would usually sing along too, and she’s pretty sure he would too; especially if he were with Karen or Arthur. But she doesn’t, too ashamed and embarrassed that she guilted him into dragging her along.

As if reading her mind, however, he asks.

“Am I correct in thinking you like to sing, Kingston?”

“No,” she turns her head to face him sharply, “No, definitely not.”

“I think you’re lying,” he says over the sound of Billy Idol singing on the radio as he turns up the volume.

She shakes her head vehemently, but he cuts her off by singing along.

‘Midnight hour babe, she cried, more more more.’

She just stares at him, transfixed, unable to look away.

‘With a rebel yell, she cried, more more more. More more mOOOooore.”

He winks at her while the guitar revs up for the next chorus and she feels her nerves and the longing for him to take her back home, start ebbing away.

‘She don’t like slavery, she won’t sit and beg,’ he sticks out his bottom lip at her in a plea, and she smiles.

‘But when I’m tired and lonely she sees me to bed,’ he puts his hands together for a second and mimes sleeping on them and she grabs for the wheel again while he chuckles at her.

‘What set you free and brought you to me babe,’ he sings at her and she giggles.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” she insists over the music.

‘What set you free, I need you here by me,’ he reaches a hand out to her.

“And your _hands on the wheel_.”

‘BECAUSE’ - “Sing Kingston!” - ‘In the midnight hour, she cried ...’

‘More More MooOoore’ Alex belts out and Matt beams.

‘With a rebel yell, she cried...’

‘More More MooOoore’ she smiles back, and he winks.

‘Waaaoooh! In the midnight hour babe, she cried...’

She forgets to continue, too flabbergasted by his growling ‘waoh’, and he laughs, continuing on his own. Until Alex comes back in with ‘He lives in his own heaven’ and they end up singing together, while she air guitars and drums on the dashboard, the rest of the way to the ferry port.

“See,” he grins as she finishes another brilliant drum solo above the glove compartment of his car with her hands, “I knew you were fun.”

She smiles shyly and looks for their tickets and passports in the rucksack he’d packed.

They work together to figure out the instructions on the headlight deflectors and hope they have placed them at the right angle, before boarding the ferry.

“We get this free ‘full English breakfast’,” he reads the back of his ticket as they climb the steps.

“Better head straight for the food court, then,” Alex suggests with a gleam in her eye.

They both order breakfast with tea and find a table by the window while they eat.

After adjusting his watch to tell the time as it will be in France, Alex pops to the loo and then drags him up more stairs to the deck. They struggle together to open the heavy door and they make their way outside.

“I love the sea,” Alex admits, wandering over to the railing along the stern of the ferry and looking over it.

“Me too,” Matt sighs, next to her, taking a deep breath and inhaling the salty breeze.

She smiles at him and curls her fingers around the railing. “Thank you, Matt.”

“For what?”

“For asking me to come with you.”

“Thank _you_ , for saying ‘yes’.”

“I’m sorry about earlier...”

“Don’t be,” he rests a comforting hand lightly on her shoulder and she nods, facing out to sea again.

They watch the waves and chat about filming and music and family and soon enough the announcement comes over the tannoy informing them of their arrival in Calais.

-

Eventually they are let off the ferry and Matt drives them through the streets of Calais until he finds the hypermarket.

“Thought we could get the shopping done first and then spend the rest of the day doing whatever we like,” he suggests.

“Good plan,” she agrees, “What time does our ferry leave?”

“Not ‘til nine-fifteen tonight,” he beams.

They buy wine and cheese, and biscuits. Alex finds a pair of sandals she loves and a long summery skirt that swishes just below her knees. And matt re-discovers his love of flip-flops. They pack everything into the car with the help of one of the shop assistants and decide to find somewhere on the coast for lunch.

Matt pulls into a car park at ‘Cap Blanc Nez’ and they change into their new shoes and Alex into her skirt, rather than jeans, before finding a fish and chip van on the sand dunes. Matt orders for both of them and Alex hides her impressed smile at his French language abilities.

They make their way down the steps to the beach and sit on a rock as they share a bag of chips.

“I love the sea,” Alex sighs wistfully as she licks the salt and crumbs from her fingers.

“You already said that,” Matt replies, just as wistfully as he watches her.

She giggles as she turns her attention to him and jumps up, holding her hand out for him to take and she pulls him up before almost skipping across the sand.

He drops their rubbish in the bin by the steps and chases after her, reaching her just before she reaches the water.

“Going in are you?” He asks, a little breathless.

“Nooo,” she shakes her head as if he is mad. “Way too cold.”

“Not for your feet, surely,” he takes a step closer before crouching, taking his new flip-flops off and rolling up his trousers.

“Oh my _god_ ,” she stares at him, eyes wide in shock as he wades into the water a short way. “Are your feet not _freezing_?”

“A bit cold, but they’ll soon get used to it,” he beams, “come on, join me.”

“No!”

“ _Alex_.”

“Nooo.”

“Don’t make me come and get you...”

She gasps, “You wouldn’t...”

“I _would_.”

“Nope.”

“Yep,” and as he wades back out towards her she squeals and runs away.

He just runs after her and catches up to her in seconds, sweeping her off her feet and she laughs as she shouts and swats at him to put her down.

“I will,” he states, but doesn’t release her.

“ _Now,_ ” she demands.

“In a second,” he heads straight for the sea.

“No! _Matt_ ,” she hurriedly reaches to her feet to rid them of her new sandals and frantically tries to pull her skirt up above her knees.

He doesn’t go any deeper than his ankles before letting her go, but there is no way she could escape his hold without her feet touching the water. She gasps and swears as the cold water rushes over her feet and swirls around her ankles and she almost drops her skirt.

Instead, she grabs the ends and folds it over before bringing it round and tucking it in her waistband on one side; kind of like a make-shift, shorter skirt.

“See; it’s not so bad,” he chuckles, and she glares at him.

He walks out of the water to pick their shoes up and gives hers back to her as he rejoins her in the sea. They walk along the shoreline, talking about their favourite holidays and places they dream of visiting. At one point, Matt holds his hand out for her to hold and she stops in her tracks, staring at it like it might bite her before relaxing and curling her fingers around his.

“I can’t feel my toes anymore,” she giggles.

“Neither,” he smiles. “Do you think we should get out now?”

“Mmmm,” she nods and they turn to head back up the beach.

“Matt? It’s getting deeper...”

“So it is...” he notices at the water laps around his knees, “erm...”

She laughs. “We’re quite surrounded, darling, I think we need to go back the way we came.”

They chuckle together and lean against one another as they keep their balance on the sand in the sea and head back to shallower waters.

“Well, that was amusing,” he grins, “not quite sure what happened there.”

“I think we just followed the shallow water and didn’t realise that we were sort of following a ridge of sand under the sea,” she tries to explain.

“Precisely what I thought,” he winks and she swats him.

“Where to next m’lady?”

-

They drive on down the coast a little more, aiming to get to ‘Cap Gris Nez’ to visit the war memorial. However, as they are driving, they enter what looks like a cloud of smoke; that they would pass through. Except they don’t. It is a cloud, of _cloud_ , like a sea fog, settled across the land and making it difficult to see more than ten feet in front of them.

“Well, this is interesting,” Alex remarks.

“Yes,” Matt agrees; his voice not as amused as hers. “How am I supposed to find the sea now?”

“I’m not sure,” she worries her bottom lip, “drive slowly, you don’t want to send us over the edge.”

“It’s around here somewhere, I saw a sign not far back,” he grumbles.

“Ah,” she points enthusiastically, “there, see the sign? ... _Turn left,_ darling.”

He swizzles the steering wheel and takes the corner a little too sharply and Alex clings onto her seat for dear life.

“Sorry,” he grimaces and rolls around the car park looking for a space.

Alex jumps out as soon as he turns off the engine and then ducks back in to grab her jumper.

“It’s a little cool now,” she points out.

Her hand automatically slips into his again as they walk down the path together. A sign looms before them and they struggle to read it through the fog before setting off down one of the designated routes.

“Is this a good idea?” she asks hesitantly.

“No one else seems bothered by it,” he replies.

“And how many other people can you _actually_ see, Matt?” She raises her eyebrows but he can hardly tell.

“I saw three in the car park,” he protests and she smiles.

“Alright,” she bites her lip and squeezes his hand a little tighter. “Have you been here before?”

“Nope.”

“So... how do you know where we’re going?”

“I don’t...” he pauses for a moment, “do you?”

“No, I’ve never been here before either,” she steps closer to him as they continue to walk in the direction the path takes them. “Isn’t it an ancient battle site?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“So, the stories people have told me about this place could be true?”

“What stories?” he asks as if he doesn’t believe in such nonsense.

“Like, ghost stories...”

“Alex, there are no ghosts, alright,” he squeezes her hand comfortingly. “There’s just you and me and the fog.”

“Well, that’s encouraging,” she says sarcastically. “What was that?”

“What?”

“ _That_!”

“I don’t hear anything...”

“Neither did I, there’s a shadow up ahead,” she clutches tightly at his hand and buries her face in his shoulder, just peeking out around the side. “ _Matt_.”

“I’m here,” he soothes, “you’re fine.”

“But, Matt, it’s coming towards us.”

“There’s nothing _there_ Alex,” he gasps, the words stuck in his throat as he sees it too.

“There _is_.”

They hear a sort of growl and both of them jump and then freeze.

“Matt, what is it?” she clings to him, “I’m scared.”

“It’s fine, I’m sure it’s nothing,” he says but he doesn’t sound convincing.

“Can we go back?”

The shadow gets closer and closer and they hear the growling again.

“Oh Matt,” she whimpers, “I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not going to die,” he shushes her.

“But I like you and I’ve never told you and now it’s all gonna be too late.”

“It’s not too late,” he argues, then realises what she had actually said, “Wait... you what?”

“ _Matt_ ,” she almost cries and turns her head into his coat as the shadow is almost upon them, and he wraps his arms around her protectively.

The growling occurs again, followed by a gruff voice ‘faire taire’. A tall skinny man and his black wiry dog appear out of the fog and pass by them. ‘Bonjour’ the man acknowledges them.

“B-bonjour,” Matt replies and then the man is gone.

“Was that _it_?” Alex squeaks as she raises her head from his chest. “A man and his dog?”

He chuckles. “Yep.”

She huffs and starts walking back towards the car.

“Alex, wait,” he trots up beside her and holds his hands out. “Don’t want to lose you in the fog.”

She sighs and places her hand back in his, all but dragging him back to the car.

“Let’s go inland more, perhaps the fog will have lifted there,” she suggests as they hop back in the car, and she plugs her iphone in to the radio as she has an extensive collection of eighties music that she now knows they both like. She doesn’t want him bringing up what she had said in her desperate moment of darkness; when she thought they were going to get eaten by ghosts or something.

“Good idea,” he shouts over the sound of David Bowie. “Do you mind if I turn the music down just while we navigate through this fog?”

She ducks her head and turns the volume down low and he sighs. He must have taken her putting music on as a hint not to bring it up again, because he doesn’t; concentrating only on finding out where they are and where they want to go.

Soon they find themselves in sun drenched farmlands and the fog is forgotten. Matt meanders up a hill and they come across another small car park, signalling a viewpoint. He pulls in and shuts off the engine and they get out in silence.

She naturally holds his hand as they hike up the last bit of the hill and she holds her breath as she looks around. They can see for miles; in a panorama. The sea in the distance with rolling fields and tiny towns spread out forever beneath them.

A small ruined chapel stands at the top and Alex reads about its history as Matt admires its architecture.

“I like old buildings like this,” Matt mumbles.

Alex smiles, they seem to have a lot more in common than they originally thought. “Me too.”

He grins at her and takes her hand again as they stroll back to the car.

“Thank you for today, Matt,” she doesn’t look at him while she speaks, afraid she may give away more than she’s willing.

“It’s not over yet,” he promises.

-

They drive back into Calais, arriving just after seven in the evening. Matt finds a car park near the docks and they both get out in search of somewhere to have dinner.

“Do you like seafood?” Matt queries and she grins.

“Course I do.”

“There’s a lovely place down here,” he signals to the row of shops and cafes before them, “my Dad used to take me to.”

“Then let’s go,” she encourages him.

“It’s small and simple; even the name is...”

She looks up at him expectantly, using her hand to shade her eyes from the low sun.

“... ‘Petit Café de Fruits de Mer’,” he states proudly.

“Little Seafood Café?” she repeats, smiling, and he guides her inside. “How quaint.”

“Bonne soiree, voulez-vous rester à l'intérieur ou à l'extérieur?” A very French looking waiter with a curly moustache greets them.

“Bonne soiree,” Matt replies to the waiter. “Inside or outside, Kingston?” he asks.

“Outside, I think,” she contemplates her surroundings.

“S'il vous plaît extérieur,” he returns to the waiter.

“Trés bien,” the waiter flourishes a menu and leads them to a cosy table for two out on the decking.

“Merci beaucoup,” Alex thanks him as he tucks her into her chair and leaves them to fetch their complementary bottle of wine. “What are you ordering?”

“I am ordering for both of us,” Matt replies boldly without glancing up from the menu.

“Oh, are you now?”

“Indeed,” he risks a wink at her, and she feels the heat rise in her cheeks – _that’s new_. “Don’t worry, you’ll love it.”

“Our best Rosé,” the waiter returns with their wine and pours Matt a glass allowing him to taste and approve it before continuing and pouring Alex a glass also. “For the love birds,” he explains with a smile and Alex’s cheeks redden even more. He has obviously cottoned on that they are English, and, as nice as it may be if it were true, he has mistaken them for a couple. “What will it be?” He gestures to the menu in Matt’s hands.

“Le plateau de fruits de mer à partager, s'il vous plait,” Matt orders and the waiter mutters his approval, before leaving them.

“What does a seafood platter entail?” she asks in anticipation.

“Spoilers,” he nonchalantly takes a sip of his wine.

“Don’t drink too much of that,” she warns him playfully, “you’re driving.”

“Unless _you_ drive...”

“No,” she shakes her head before taking a large sip of her own wine, “I plan on consuming the entire bottle; this stuff is delicious.”

He chuckles lightly before sobering immediately, watching the muscles in her throat contract as she takes another long sip from her glass and licks her lips.

“What are you staring at?” she quirks an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” he replies too quickly, and she notices. “Just... you look stunning with the warm orange sun beginning to set behind you and the tall boat masts swaying in the salty sea breeze.”

“How poetic,” she murmurs, gazing into his deep hazel eyes; and her hand subconsciously reaches across the table to entwine with his.

“Aww, so bootiful,” the waiter remarks as he returns with their dinner, “you in lurve, oui?” He places the platter between the stunned couple and retreats with a large grin and ‘Enjoy!’

Shaking themselves from their stupor they gaze at the platter of seafood in front of them. There are prawns, crab, lobster, mussels, langoustines, smoked salmon, scallops and oysters, with a variety of dips and sauces.

“Oh my god,” she gasps, “how are we supposed to eat all this?”

“Just eat what you want,” he chuckles and pops a prawn in his mouth.

He watches studiously as Alex peruses her options and selects an oyster, squeezing a dash of lemon over it before raising it to her lips and sucking it into her mouth. She pauses as she places the shell aside, realising he is watching her, before swallowing.

“Nice?” he manages to ask.

“Yes, thank you,” she replies bashfully.

 _Now_ what is wrong with them? They’ve gone from awkward and uncomfortable to great friends and enjoying each others’ company, to dancing around a subject she doesn’t want to talk about, to feeling akin to each other, to acting shy around one another. France can do strange things to people.

They spend the best part of an hour digging into the platter of food and doing a surprisingly good job at clearing it. Plates piled high with shells and stomachs pleasantly full, the waiter tops up their glasses and takes their food away, before Matt pays the bill.

“Well, that was delicious darling, thank you,” she says over the rim of her glass before sipping more wine.

“So are you,” he mumbles.

“Pardon?”

“I mean, I thought so too,” he says a little louder and she frowns at him sceptically. “Fancy a walk down by the dock?” He asks and she finishes her glass. “We can pretend to go boat shopping.”

“They’re yachts, darling. Please use their proper name,” she takes his hand as she gets to her feet, feeling a little tipsy and light headed from the wine.

He giggles. “They’re not _all_ yachts.”

-

She entwines her fingers with his as they wander across the wooden planks around the docks. They gaze out to sea and discuss which boats they like best; and funnily enough find they have another thing in common.

Alex sighs as they stroll down the pier towards the sunset. “We should have bought a camera,” she gazes out to the horizon.

“I don’t need a camera to remember this view,” he admits, gazing at her with the sunset behind her; the orange glow filtering through her wild curls.

She hums and turns to him, surprised to find him looking at her. Her breath catches as she realises the view he was talking about. “ _Matt_ ,” she breathes.

They stare at each other for a moment before Matt breaks the silence.

“I have a camera on my iphone...”

She smiles and he hands it too her. She takes a photo of the sun setting on the horizon; of the deck of the pier leading out into the orange tinted sea; of the boats waving in the wind; a seagull on a post and of Matt’s silhouette.

Then he take a photo of her just the way he’d seen her a moment ago.

A familiar man walks up to them. “Salut,” he beams, “I take photo of you?”

It’s the waiter from their meal; he explains how he was on his break and went for a walk, when he saw ‘the love birds’ – _them_.

“Merci,” Alex thanks him and Matt nods as she hands him the camera phone.

She takes Matt’s hand again and they smile at the man, who snaps a photo.

“Merci beacoup,” Matt moves to take it back from him.

“Non, er... love birds, oui?” He gestures for them to get closer together.

Matt wraps his arm around Alex’s shoulders and hers lands on his waist as she drops her head onto his shoulder and smiles warmly.

“Oui, oui, parfait!” He snaps another photo and the pair relax again.

“Et l‘embrasser... er _kiss?_ Kiss her.”

Alex freezes in his arms. _He wouldn’t, just because a French waiter tells him too?_ Matt doesn’t make a move. “Non,” Alex shakes her head and waves her hand at the man, “we’re not... ‘love birds’.”

The man frowns and seems to disagree, encouraging them still to get together and to kiss under the sunset for a photo.

“Okay, look,” she turns to Matt, “just peck me on the lips or something and then maybe he’ll give you your phone back.”

“You mean act? Like we do on film?” He frowns.

“Yes,” she implores him.

“Alex...” he almost whispers.

“Yes?”

“What if I don’t want to act?”

“What do you mean, you don’t want to act?” She furrows her brow in confusion.

“I mean _now_ ,” his hand slips down her arm and he keeps her close, “what if I don’t want to pretend to kiss you?”

“Well then I hope you’re bloody good at French Matt, coz I don’t think that lovely man is giving your phone back until he sees ‘the love birds’ kiss.”

“That’s my _point_ ,” he sighs in exasperation. “He wants to see us kiss, so ... can I _kiss_ you?”

“ _Matt_?” her knees almost buckle as she realises what he’s actually asking. _That’s why they have been acting strangely with each other all day. He really likes her; they don’t feel like friends, because they feel like_ more _than friends._

“Kiss! _Kiss_!” the French man insists.

She gazes up into his eyes and slowly runs her hands up his chest, over his shoulders and into his hair; pulling him closer as one of his hands finds purchase on her back and the other slide up to cup her cheek.

The French man makes some sort of ecstatic sound of joy as he snaps photos of them and Alex smiles as Matt pulls her in and their lips finally meet.

She tastes salty from the seafood and sweet from the wine and she has another unique, almost spicy taste that is all her. He licks a line along the seam of her lips and she parts them to him, swallowing his moans as their tongues dance in the middle.

The hand on her cheek slides into her hair and he tangles his fingers in her divine curls, while the other hand presses her flush against him and she whimpers at the contact; tightening her hands in his floppy mop of hair.

They hear the French man stop clicking the camera and eventually they pull apart, panting.

“So, so, bootiful,” the French man remarks and hands Matt his phone back. “Nice to be meeting you,” he shakes Matt’s hand and takes Alex’s to brush his lips over her knuckles, “enchanté mademoiselle.”

“Le plaisir est pour moi, monsieur,” she giggles, and the lovely man leaves them in peace.

“Do that again?” Matt requests as soon as they are alone.

“What? Kiss you?”

“No! Well, _yes_...please do,” he smirks, “but I meant, speak in French again?”

She leans up on tip toe, curling her fingers around his collar to steady herself as she pecks him on the lips between each word; “Et...que...voulez-vous...que...je...dise?”

“Okay, I’m not that good at French so I have no idea what you just said...” he rubs his nose against hers affectionately.

“I said,” she kisses him again, “And what would you have me say?”

“Really? Is that all? It sounded so _sexy_...” he whines.

She hums, tapping her chin contemplatively, “Voulez-vous que je t'embrasse encore?”

He frowns, “would I like... _you_ to... do something... again?”

“Kiss you,” she giggles, “would you like me to _kiss_ you again?”

“Aah,” he grins and pulls her close, “Oui s'il vous plait.”

She pulls him down to her and kisses him again, determined and insistent against his mouth; now she has him, she never wants to let him go.

“I am much more fluent in German, by the way,” she tries to catch her breath as they part.

“Well then, we will just have to visit Germany together as well sometime,” he bops her on the nose and she crinkles it adorably, “won’t we?”

-

They both find a secluded corner on the quiet ferry ride back to England; sharing sweet kisses and whispers of affection and promises; acting and feeling just like two teenagers who have fallen in love in France.

“I think we should go to Paris next time,” Matt suggests, “it’s supposed to be the city of love, is it not?”

“Indeed,” Alex agrees, “Can’t get there and back in one day though,” she reasons.

“True,” he sighs, “looks like we’d have to go for a whole weekend...”

“Or maybe even an entire _week_ ,” she adds, smiling and snuggling into his shoulder. “There are so many places I want to take you.”

“I just want to take you _everywhere_ I go,” he replies.

“Matt...” she mumbles into his shirt, suddenly shy again.

“Alex?”

“This is gonna keep, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” he furrows his brow in concern and she shifts to look up at him.

“I mean, it all kinda happened pretty fast just now, and – well, we were in France and eating seafood and drinking wine, then watching the sunset...”

“Alex, this is definitely going to keep,” he interrupts her, “the wine and food and sunset only helped push me over the edge; I was ready to jump almost the moment I met you,” he admits.

“Really?”

“ _Really_ , really,” he lifts her chin with the crook of his finger and kisses her to prove it. “Alex...”

“Matt?”

“You know that thing you said... in the fog; when we thought – well, _you_ thought, we were going to get got by ghosts...”

She chuckles at the memory. “Mmmhmmm.”

“You said you liked me ... when you curled into me and clung to me like I was the only thing that mattered – the only thing that could save you...”

“Matt, I said I liked you – yes.”

“D-did you mean it?”

“Of course I did you silly man,” she looks up at him again and delicately brushes his fringe from his eyes.

“Do you _still_ like me?”

Her eyes explore his face; his prominent cheek bones and sharp chin, his wide nose and almost non-existent eyebrows, his floppy hair, deep hazel eyes and beautiful, sweet lips. She kisses him and thinks of how he is at work; how he brings her tea in the mornings when he fetches his own, he shares his hot water bottles with her, he flirts with her unlike he does anyone else, he is the first to compliment her in every new costume, he playfully pulls on her ‘magic’ curls just to see them spring back into place and he is a saint with her daughter when she visits the set. She pulls back and gazes into his eyes, losing herself in the memories of the day.

“No,” she says finally and Matt’s face falls. She captures it in her hands and lifts his lips to hers briefly. “I love you, you idiot,” she beams and kisses him properly.

“Wait,” he says breaking away, still in shock, “can – can you say that again?”

“I _love_ you,” she purrs and strokes her thumbs across his cheeks.

“Really?”

She giggles at their repetition. “ _Really_ , really.”

“I-I...”

She places a finger against his lips to hush him. “You don’t have to say it just because I did,” she reasons; she’s had her heart broken too many times to hear him say it if he doesn’t mean it.

“But I want to...”

“But you don’t _have_ to...”

“Alex,” he silences her, “I love you.”

She feels tears spring to her eyes.

“And I want you to let me _tell_ you that I love you.”

She nods mutely for fear those tears may fall if she tries to speak.

“I love you, too.”

He kisses her and they fall, tears stream down her face; she doesn’t understand how or why this is happening to them, she only hopes it will last forever.

All too soon the announcement instructs people to return to their cars and Matt and Alex spend the entire journey home laughing and singing along to eighties rock songs as they had on the way there.

-

The morning seems so long ago now and as Matt drops her home and kisses her on the doorstep, she drags him inside by his collar and they proceed to undress each other and show each other how much they are truly loved by one another.

The next morning they wake up to a sharp rapping on the front door.

“Oh, who’s that,” Alex groans as she rolls over and comes face to face with the beautiful man she suddenly remembers going to bed with.

“Hello, beautiful,” Matt grins.

“Morning,” she smiles and stretches.

Karen yells through the door, “Wake up sleepy head, Matt’s not answering and you need to tell me all about your trip to France.”

Alex groans again. “I’d better go talk to her,” she sighs, moving to peck him on the lips. But he has other plans, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her on top of him as he kisses her properly. She pushes against his chest as she giggles into his mouth, a poor effort at reprimanding him and trying to get off him.

“Alex Kingston, you open this door right now or so help me I _will_ knock it down,” Karen’s Scottish brogue filters through to the bedroom.

“I have to...” he pulls her back into a kiss, “ _Matt_ , I have to answer the door.”

“Fine,” he huffs, “you go talk ‘girl talk’ or whatever and I’ll just keep the bed warm for us,” he winks as she wraps herself in a deep red robe.

She rolls her eyes as she leaves the room, swinging her hips a little more than usual and his answering groan confirms to her that he was ogling her arse.

“What are you giggling about?” the red head interrogates before she even gets through the door.

“Nothing,” she giggles again. “Tea dear?”

“Yes, please,” Karen sits herself on a stool at the kitchen bar and Alex flicks the kettle on before leaning her elbows on the other side. “So tell me everything.”

“Not much to tell really,” she lies. “We went to France, picked up some wine and cheese, had chips on the beach, saw and old church, ate some seafood and came home.”

“Sounds amazing,” Karen deadpans, “well, glad I didn’t go then.”

Actually she knows Karen would have thoroughly enjoyed it, but it was kind of fate that won her that ticket with Matt; if she hadn’t gone; if Karen or Arthur had gone, they may never have realised what they are to each other.

“Something _happened_ , didn’t it?” Karen’s eyes bore through her.

“No,” she anwers too quickly, “like what?”

She frowns, but they are interrupted by the front door opening and Arthur walking in, letting it slam behind him.

“Morning,” he smiles, “how was France.”

“Just let yourself in dear, never mind that it’s _my_ flat,” Alex says sarcastically, adding more water to the kettle.

“Apparently it was boring,” Karen informs him, “but I think there’s something she’s not telling us.”

“I thought you were coming back to bed once she was gone... oops,” Matt walks into the kitchen in only his boxers, obviously having thought when Arthur slammed the door on his way in, that it was Karen leaving.

“ _What_?” Karen squeals and Alex hides her head in her hands while Matt tries to cover himself up.

“Is there something you would like to tell us, Alex,” Arthur studies her like a father would and she scowls at him.

“Fine,” she sighs, and glances at Matt apologetically. “Matt and I had a great time yesterday; especially in the evening ... where’s your phone, love?” she directs the question at Matt.

“Love?” Karen squeaks, apparently having been reduced to only being able to speak in one word questions.

“Um...” Alex blushes, “yes.” Matt tosses his phone at her with a smug grin. “Thank you, darling.” She opens the gallery file and flicks back through the pictures to the first one the French man had taken of them, smiling fondly at the memories, before passing the phone over to their friends. “Flick through them and you’ll get the idea,” she instructs them, pushing them out through the hallway; but they are too distracted to realise, “just drop the phone back through the letterbox when you’re done.” She shoves them through the door and shuts it quickly behind them.

“Nice one,” Matt smirks as he pulls her down onto the bed.

“I think our secret is out,” she hums against his lips.

“Good,” he grins, “I want the whole world to know.”

“Well, we’ve done France and England,” she giggles, “where to next?”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are wonderful and comments even better :) x


End file.
